


Days grow longer. Days grow shorter

by whoevencares



Category: Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Multi, Neglect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-21 17:34:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8254472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoevencares/pseuds/whoevencares
Summary: Sometimes he wished one of his parents hit him.Hit him. Hug him. Shout at him. They were nearly all the same in his mind.All he wanted was to be noticed. He wanted to be more important than the heated arguments between his parents. He wanted to be more important than everything else happening in his parents lives. He wanted to be loved.Want not need. Ryan wasn't greedy. He understood the difference between want and need.





	1. Chapter 1

From a young age Ryan knew his home life wasn't safe. Listening to other children's conversations about how they couldn't wait to go home and hug their parents, and arguing who's parents gave the best hugs. That's when he knew his family was different. 

He already knew what the word abuse meant.

Sometimes he wished one of his parents hit him.  
Hit him. Hug him. Shout at him. They were nearly all the same in his mind.  
All he wanted was to be noticed. 

He wanted to be more important than the heated arguments between his parents. He wanted to be more than the cigarettes his mother loved dearly. He wanted to be more than the vodka that was consumed by both his parents. 

Want not need. 

Ryan wasn't greedy. He understood the difference between want and need. 

Need was food, water, warmth and his guitar. Want was tight hug and a kiss goodnight. 

Sometimes he thought he deserved neither.

Ryan didn't know what neglect was

\----

Elementary school wasn't too bad for Ryan. 

Spencer Smith is a story for another day. The only person Ryan would take a bullet for. 

Spencer left.

Ryan doesn't blame him.  
\----

By the time Ryan was the age to be starting high school he already set himself boundaries and moderately high walls. His life at home hadn't improved, nor deteriorated.

Ryan didn't know anyone. New school. Lots of people. Big scary important officials.

So when he stepped into his homeroom he didn't expect to be enthusiastically greeted by a boy with red tips on his hair and a decorated t-shirt saying 'Aliens exist'. 

"Hi! Did your summer fly by too? Is it weird that I'm actually exited to start school? Hopefully my teachers are nice!" The boy said with a small grin on his face.  
Overwhelmed with the sudden human interaction Ryan gave a small nod and politely moved away to take a seat near the back. Ryan had read somewhere that sitting in at the front made you pay more attention, but who was even capable of that at ass-crack of dawn registration, plus it's not like it was an actual class.  
When he turned around to take a seat at his chosen desk (back corner, window side) he saw the boy draw a seat at the desk to his left.  
"I'm Josh, I just moved from Ohio because my Dad got a job here." Josh said at a /slightly/ lower volume than before.  
Ryan gave another small nod as he slid out his earphones from under his shirt rolling them up into a small scrunch.  
"What were you listening to?" Josh asked, looking hopeful for an answer. Ryan continued to look down and shoved his headphones and iPod into the front pocket of his ripped up and grass stained backpack.  
"What's your name?" Josh asked, looking near to giving up on getting anything out of the boy. With Ryan's head still tilted down and his backpack on his desk, he quietly mumbled a short,"I'm Ryan".  
After a small pause Josh gave a excited smile - that Ryan couldn't see in his peripheral vision - and returned "Hi Ryan!"

Ryan didn't have any lessons with Josh at all apart from music, but even with the absence of him, Josh was still in his mind.  
His first lesson felt like a blur and he couldn't keep his mind on track. And yes he did choose a seat near the front. He was bored though. The boredom made it almost impossible to complete the work in front of him. Anything that went through his mind eventually went on a tangent leading to the topic of Josh. Ryan's mind wondered between how algebra was ever going to help him in his future job (psychology), and of course the boy who's name rhymes with 'mosh' and begins with 'J'.

The only positive to having something interesting to think about (or rather overthink about) was that he hardly realised that the lesson was over and lunch was upon him. Sighing, he gathered up his 'educational utensils' and shoved them in his 100 year old backpack. Then following, the agitated flow of people pushing and shoving in the direction of the canteen, he tried to work out where he was going to eat his lunch in peace. 

For a split second he debated going to the canteen to find Josh, but after a quick think through he decided the risks outweighed the benefits. Ryan was an introvert. Books were his friends and people were scary. At least all the people he knew were scary except for a few. 

Although a tad cliché, Ryan ended up eating his jam sandwich - he hastily made that morning - in a toilet cubicle. The though of facing the canteen made his stomach churn, even though he knew in less than a week the toilets were going to smell worse than Satan's breathe four hours after drinking coffee (meaning at some point he was going to have to face the tightly packed sweaty lunch hall).

\---

The next morning he walked into his homeroom to find Josh already seated folding up a scrap sheet of paper into an inaccurately folded paper plane.

"Ryan!" Josh beamed looking up from creation. "We have music today with a guy called Mr Hoppus," Without even stopping to take a breath Josh continued "Apparently he's nice but he's new to this school so no one really knows him."  
Ryan replied with his -what was becoming signature- nod and muttered a small "That's cool". Ryan didn't really think he had any good teachers this year. Maybe with the exception of his English teacher who seemed like the only person in the entire school who was passionate about the subject they were teaching.  
"You should sit at our lunch table at lunch! Yesterday I met a couple people who seem really awesome. There was this one guy who I think was maybe called Brad or Brandon or something, who knew the band MuteMath" Josh said, taking a deep breath once he had finished. 

Ryan had never been invited to something like this - if you could call it an invite. Spencer had never 'invited' Ryan to be friends with him, it just ended up happening as neither of them had any friends. Though as soon as Spencer came out of his shell and talked to others in their elementary class, he became somewhat popular with people asking to sit next to him at lunch every day. Ryan couldn't deny the fact that he was slightly envious that Spencer found it easy to make friends, except over all his envy, he felt guilty that he was holding spencer back. Spencer was gone now. Ryan would never work out why he chose Ryan over every other kid in the class to be best friends with. 

Realising he had gotten side-tracked from doing a usual nod back to Josh he murmured under his breath "That would be nice," and tilted his head up to Josh's a fraction. More or less immediately Josh's face broke into a giant smile. Ryan thought maybe he had made the right decision for the first time in his life since Spencer.

When lunch finally came around, Ryan was close to a mess of thoughts. 

He hadn't had company at lunchtime since Spencer (If you exclude a lovely librarian who always reminded Ryan to not eat in the library despite him never bringing food in the first place). Lunch time with Spencer was generally relaxing and quiet while they were eating, and then once the two of them had finished they would erupt into every topic that came into their minds.

Taking a step into the canteen Ryan breathed a sigh of relief when no one turned around and looked at him. The ugly primary colour blue seats instantly bugged him and Ryan wondered if the school could have chose a worse table cloth colour. Scanning through the immense number of students he tried to spot Josh with his dip-dyed red hair.  
"RYAN!" He heard from behind him just before he was gently shoulder nudged. "You came!" Josh


	2. Chapter 2

"Not that I don't have any faith in you, but I didn't think you would come. What persuaded you?" Josh laughed.  
Ryan was asking himself the exact same question. Probably the process of elimination brought him here. The school was limited in places to hang around in and the canteen was one of the few areas.  
But in reply to Josh he simply shrugged.

"I'm going to get pizza so I've gotta' queue" Josh sighed, glancing over to the long queue of hungry looking students. "You got packed or what?"  
"uh, ye- no. No I'm canteen,"   
Ryan had another hastily made jam sandwich in his bag, with additional peanut butter today, but no way was he facing a table full of new people without Josh.   
"Well I had pizza yesterday so I'll show you what ya do." Josh smiled. "To be honest I have a feeling I'm going to be having pizza everyday. You got your lunch money?"  
Ryan scrunched his face up regretting his excuse and tipped his head back.   
"Ha, So I'm guessing that’s a no," Josh laughed. "I'll pay for ya this one time, no worries"  
Ryan let out a breath of air and tried to get his message across that he was extremely grateful without saying so. He then followed Josh who led the way to the back of the queue.

"That's the table over there," Josh said, swinging his head around in the direction due to two full hands carrying his pizza and a drink. "Trust me, everyone is lovely,"  
Ryan, not knowing how to respond once again, gave yet another small nod.  
Approaching the table Ryan was having second thoughts about if leaving the toilets really was worth it. He could deal with the smell…Right?  
Ryan could feel his mind starting to go into overdrive as he questioned where he would sit, and who would he talk to? Would he be near josh? 

This school actually had a pretty decent food selection. In the coming months before he moved up, almost horror-like stories were told about mushy-broccoli and vile vicious smoothies. From his birds eye view of his plate, he could see nothing wrong with the innocent looking pizza on his paper plate. Maybe the smell was a little off-putting, and the layer of grease idly coating the top was concerning for his health, but did it really matter that much? 

"Hi guys! Look I brought Ryan, my friend I was telling you about who's in my form". Wait. What? Josh told them about him. Since when was he that significant. And also. Friend? Had Ryan actually managed to make a friend on the first day? Josh considered him a friend?   
"Hi Ryan" came a chorus of voices from the table. Ryan tilted his head down once again to avoid staring someone dead in the eye and sending across the wrong message. He really really really couldn't do the who 'conversing' thing.   
"So Ryan's a bit quiet, but it will probably just balance out with how goddamn loud you are" Josh laughed again.

Ryan didn't quite realise how literal Josh's statement was. There were a lot of people at the table, and consequently a lot of noise. The only names he remembered were Tyler, Jenna and Brendon. He had already forgotten the names of the others, but he hardly expected to remember any of them.   
Zoning in and out of the conversation Ryan learnt that Brendon was a music prodigy, Josh likes colourful hair and Jenna and Tyler were in a relationship and had been for a while. If he was honest, Ryan thought this age was too young to be in committed relationships. Not that he couldn't be in one, or that he had anything against them. But a relationship so young has got to end in heartbreak, right?

Ryan was a great listener. Great. Listener. He was not a good talker however. This is something you should understand and remember. 

Apart from a couple questions here and there, which he could all answer with his simple nod, or a shake of the head, the lunch break was uneventful and less terrifying than he expected it to be.

\------

Ryan couldn't wait to go home. 

It was one of those days where you write down the question and leave a blank space to answer the question later, for when you actually give a damn.   
His eyes ached. Like actually ached. Is that even possible? Too many bright white worksheets. How hard was it to get some less eye straining paper?   
He wasn't even being taught anything. The only words coming out of the teacher were orders of silence in her high pitched scratchy voice. His senses were so focused that he could hear the slow ticking of the cracked wonky clock, hanging precariously off the wall. The contrast between the dark jet blank ink and dazzling intense paper was seriously bugging him. Sitting near the front of the class meant Ryan missed out on any entertainment happening near the back, and was instead surrounded by nerds, who were aggressively scribbling onto the paper at an alarming rate.   
With a sigh, Ryan lent back into his chair sliding down a little, and moved his concentration back into the consistent ticking off the clock. 

 

Ryan couldn't be happier leaving the classroom. With easy access to the door thanks to front-of-the-room seating, his breath of moderately less musty air awaited him. Thrusted into the corridor from behind, Ryan made his way to the exit. Most students were rushing to their locker first, to pick up any items they may have left to avoid carrying, but Ryan didn’t see the point. Apart from the fact that he couldn't remember where his locker was (let alone his code), Ryan trusted his bag to hold everything he needed. Maybe it hurt his back a little, but Ryan wasn't wasting any time at the end of the day when he could be breathing /real/ air. 

\----

"Hey! Ry!" Someone shouted from a direction Ryan couldn't work out. Examining around through the masses of people for the voice, Ryan concluded that it was impossible to find the person.  
Taking another step forwards Ryan walked straight into said person and was greeted with another "Ryan!"  
"Oh hey Josh" Ryan replied, his voice barely making any voice over the buzz of the corridor, and cracking on the 'hey'.  
"I know this is a bit sudden, but me and some of the people you met on that table are going to have a sleepover thing this weekend, and I was going to invite you, but I remembered I don't have your phone number," Josh spurted, while dragging Ryan through the crowd and holding open the door for him.  
Deep in shock and confusion Ryan walked through the open door and uttered a "Wha'?"

A sleepover? Invited?

"It's gonna be at mine and we were thinking like maybe Saturday to Sunday," Josh continued. 

Ryan knew him and the new found boy were 'friends', but not like /friends/. Trust Ryan, there's a difference. Ryan felt excitement at the proposition and thought back to the last time he had ever been this excited. Not for a long time. Maybe Ryan felt little sparks of excitement, like when a book he had been waiting for was finally free in the library, or a teacher told him that there was no homework that week. But that wasn't 'real' excitement. In a day-to-day routine Ryan only had the warmth of his blankets to look forward to after a cold chilling day with bitter wind.

A friend. And also a foreign word to him. Not since Spencer. 

"So uh that cool?" Josh questioned.   
Realising his mind had fallen into another tangent he perked his head up and smiled.   
Giggling, Josh said "As much as I love to see your beautiful smile, I kinda wanted to know your phone number"  
"Oh yeah lemme just-," Taking his bag of one shoulder he swung his bag so he could reach the front pocket, "-ya know pen,"  
Handing Ryan his cracked phone Josh placed it into Ryan's hand and indicated he should type it in. With great care Ryan filled in the contact and typed his name as 'Ry', just as Josh had called him earlier that day. 

\-----

On the walk home he felt his phone buzz and glancing down at his brick phone he saw. 

Unknown number: :D RY :D

He couldn’t help but smile and wish his hands were warm enough to reply. 

\-----

Turning the corner Ryan spotted his bland home tucked in-between the other bright vibrant homes. The dying hedge was unshaped and leafless, and the patch of grass and mud was littered with weeds and rubbish. The paint was peeling off the house, coming off in small flakey strips resembling dry cracked skin.

He hated it, but it was home. 

Carelessly shoving his scratched key with his numb hands into the lock, he used his shoulder to bump open the slab of rotting wood and entered his 'home'. His mother supposedly worked full time at a mystery place, and Ryan's sure even she doesn't believe her lie.   
His dad is supposed to work from home, and he does, if you count watching TV for 12 hours a day as 'working'. It's a miracle the house even runs in the state it's in. The only income is from his mum, and he would rather keep it unknown from where that money came from. He was 99.9% sure it was through something illegal, even if he didn’t know what it was. 

"Dad, I'm home" He called out to the dark, damp and dusty house.

No answer.

Ryan wasn't surprised. Normally when he came home his father was snoozing on the couch, maybe ever so slightly intoxicated. Sometimes, if he felt lonely he'd gently shake the guy awake, but this was not one of those days.   
Remembering about the text from Josh, Ryan bolted up the rickety stairs - as quickly as you can with three textbooks in your bag - and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He typed out a few sentences to text to josh, but after looking up at his ceiling and whispering the message out loud he deleted it. Instead he opted for a straightforward reply.  
Ryan: :D JISH :D

 

If you were interested, his ceiling looked as gross as the rest of his room.  
Ryan's room was basic. A mattress shoved into the far corner (the bed frame grew mould a while back, and in fear of catching the black death Ryan chucked in into a nearby skip). The walls were bare and grey, with the only decoration being some colourful marker stains low down from when he was a small child. A single desktop table that was covered in clutter. It was basically his 'dump your shit here' area, as he preferred it to the concrete floor.  
He had tried to stick posters on the wall after purchasing his first Kerrang. Soon after blue-tacking them to the wall, they grew damp and the ink merged together to form more of a Picasso watercolour interpretation than what the poster actually was. Yet rather pretty, he knew soon enough mould would too infest the picture and threw that away too. 

\-----

Peering up from his homework to the small alarm clock on his table he saw the time was past 'normal' people's eating time and made his way back down the wooden stairs. Making sure not to startle his father, he carefully opened the one food cupboard in the house and deemed nothing edible.

Peering up from his homework to the small alarm clock on his table he saw the time was past 'normal' people's eating time. Pulling his earbuds out of his hears he heard the creaking floorboards below, meaning his dad had awoken.   
As he uncurled his legs from the chair and stretched the tip of his toe brushed the floor. At an instance he retracted his leg and plotted out how he was to get another pair of socks on (over his current pair which were thinning with age) without touching the floor. After some pretty 'skilled' the floor is lava business, Ryan pulled on the socks and made his way downstairs. 

His father looked to still be in the dazed and sleepy state he was always in, and didn’t look up when Ryan hit the bottom step facing him. 

"Hey"

Ryan paused not knowing what to say next.

"mnfh," Replied his dad acknowledging him. "Were ya' down here for food? I don't think we got too much, but the takeaway pamphlets are by the phone"

Ryan didn't bother to tell his dad that he didn't have any money for a takeaway. His dad wouldn't give Ryan the money, saying that Ryan should think about spending his money on 'better things'. The last thing Ryan could deal with was more conflict. He could wait till tomorrow lunch at school. Unwilling wait till tomorrow he should add

Another Jam sandwich awaited Ryan. Another day. Another few Jam sandwich. 

Exception: The slice of pizza Ryan's new found friend bought him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mock exams start next month... \\(-_-)/  
> I would love it if you could tell me what is bad about this story and how I could improve it. This is the last year I have to take english before I drop down to three subjects next year.   
> (Also I never mentioned, I got a B in my last english exam woo)
> 
> (I'm aware I'm awful at writing.)

**Author's Note:**

> I got a D in english last year.


End file.
